


Water Bottle

by mediocrityatbest



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Anxceitmus, Multi, romantic anxceitmus, yeehaw boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-17
Updated: 2020-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 02:22:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23187724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mediocrityatbest/pseuds/mediocrityatbest
Summary: Remus hyper-focuses so hard that he forgets to do basic things, like eat.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit Sanders
Comments: 4
Kudos: 196





	Water Bottle

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a request on Tumblr: "You passed out" and anxceitmus

“Remus, come to bed,” Dee demands, arms crossed over his chest. Remus hums, holding up a hand. His left operates the mouse around his screen, working on a few touch-ups on his most recent drawing. It’s a gorey scene, guts and worms and missing limbs, all of the best stuff. It’s something he’s been working on forever and he’s been so excited to finish it.

“Just a second,” he says, and pulls up a blank document to write a quick title and description for it.

“You said just a second two hours ago,” Dee says. Remus’ eyes dart to the little clock in the corner of his screen. Hm. It’s after three a.m. That can’t be good. He thought it had only been five minutes.

“Time flies,” he mutters, fingers flying over the keys. He’s making so many typos he’s not entirely sure that what he’s typing will even be intelligible in the morning, but it makes perfect sense in the moment. It sounds wonderfully poetic and descriptive, the exact kind of thing that those artsy-fartsy people will love.

“Time flies, and if you don’t get up and  _ come to bed _ , Virgil is going to carry your ass in there whether you’re ready or not,” Dee says, doing his best to be threatening in all his 5’3” glory. Normally, when Dee gets threatening (especially at other people, but even when it’s at Remus), he just gets all warm and fuzzy but...down there.

Right now, he is far too focused on his arting and majestic prose to do much other than nod that he heard and keep working.

“Remus,” Dee warns, and then a deeper voice is speaking.

“You have three seconds to save your files and then I’m moving you.”

Remus hesitates, and tilts his head back to see the other two, his husbands, and then sighs. “But I’m almost finished.”

“You can finish in the morning,” Dee says.

“Three,” Virgil adds. Remus sighs again (normally the counting is another thing that makes him all kinds of eager to obey, but...he really wants to finish this  _ now _ ) and goes about saving his files. Seven times, because it’s the best number, and then spins his chair around.

“Two,” Virgil says, and Remus rolls his eyes fondly.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” He arches his back and stretches his arms above his head, exposing a little strip of his stomach, and pushes himself out of his chair. “Oh dear,” he says when the world goes wobbly around him and then the ground rushes up to meet him.

Remus blinks a few times, wondering why something wet is rubbing his face. The blurs of color around him slowly come into focus and he sees Virgil is the culprit, wiping what Remus thinks is a washcloth (but could be a cow tongue, how to be sure?) all over his face.

“Hey,” Virgil says. “Long time, no see.”

“What?” Remus says. He leaves his mouth open, hoping he can get ahold of the washcloth and bite it. He wants to suck the water out. It always tastes better that way.

“You passed out,” Dee says, appearing from somewhere.

“Huh.”

“Do you feel okay?” Virgil asks. There’s a hand petting Remus’ hair in a very soothing way. It’s so gentle he could just fall asleep.

“Mmm-hmm.”

“Alright, I’m going to move him to the bed. Can you grab a water bottle? Maybe some, I don’t know, fuckin’ soup or something?”

“Yeah.” Soft footsteps disappear into the house and then the washcloth flops onto Remus’ face. He drags it into his mouth with his teeth while arms scoop him up like a big bag of fertilizer. Remus mutters, “whee,” but he doesn’t try to wiggle away when Virgil carries him out of the ‘art’ room and sets him on their bed. The pillows have already been turned into a sort of throne for him, which is fitting as Remus is definitely the ruler.

“Have you eaten today?” Virgil asks, pulling the washcloth away. He drags the blankets over his legs and tucks it around Remus.

“Yes,” Remus says, because it’s very important that you eat every day so Remus would have.

“You didn’t even think about it,” Virgil says, voice admonishing. Remus sighs but casts his mind back to the last day, and then some of the day before.

“I...had lunch yesterday.”

“Fucking hell,” Virgil says. “Have you had any water?”

“...no.”

“It’s no wonder you passed out.” Virgil tries to run a hand through his hair, fingers getting caught in the curls. Remus reaches out and begins to slowly work through the knots. Virgil’s eyes slip shut and he practically purrs as Remus makes his curls poof out. It’s calming, the tight curls keeping Remus in the softness of their bedroom and not floating away.

“You’re going to regret letting him do that in the morning,” Dee says, placing a bowl on the nightstand. “You always do.” Virgil grumbles but pulls away and Remus mourns the loss.

“Here,” Dee says, pressing a bottle to Remus’ lips. He takes a drink (a water bottle with orange flavoring) and realizes exactly how thirsty he is. He gulps it quickly, but then Dee takes it away. He pouts, arms crossed. “If you drink too much at once, you’ll feel sick.” He trades the water bottle for the bowl and sits on the bed beside Remus. “Open up.”

Obediently, Remus opens his mouth and eats the soup as Dee spoon feeds it to him. Virgil curls up on the bed, one arm wrapping around Remus’ waist, and presses his face into his side. Remus goes back to absently playing with his hair while he eats, feeling more grounded and calm than he has in days.

Eventually, when the soup is gone and the water is empty, Dee crawls into the bed and rests his head on Remus’ shoulder.

“You can’t forget to eat for that long,” he mutters. “You scared the shit outta Virgil and me. And it’s bad for you.”

“Sorry,” Remus says, dropping his head onto Dee’s.

“Remember to fill your water bottle next time you get all invested in something. You have it for a reason.”

“I know. I will.”

“Good. Now go to sleep. God knows the last time you slept for a full night.”

“Alright, snakey.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

(And if Remus woke up the next morning and had a breakfast in bed, he wasn’t going to complain. And if he checked on the work he did the night before, just to see that half of what he typed was gibberish and the other half wasn’t even words in either of the languages he spoke, well, he couldn’t really blame anybody for laughing. It  _ was _ pretty funny.)


End file.
